Lighter Fluid
by InkwellHero
Summary: Your name is Vriska Serket, and your college dorm mate Kanaya thinks she's going to fix you. Ha. Good luck with that. Humanstuck, Universitystuck, in which Vriska does lots of illegal stuff and Kanaya disapproves. Side pairings upon request.
1. Welcome Home

/~|~\

Your name is Vriska Serket. You are currenly standing outside of your new college dorm room, with an unknown occupant inside. You have only a backpack and a seen-better-days duffel bag. With a deep breath, you fumble with the key you'd received in the mail and open the door.

Your roommate has clearly been here for a while. The room is pretty simple - it is split obviously in two, with a bed on each side. Two desks crammed into the corners. There's hardly enough space to walk, which explains why she is sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on the window. Her bright green eyes meet your blue ones.

"Hello." She is so pleasant and reserved you think you might puke.

"'Sup." You throw your bags down on your bed.

She makes a face that she thinks you don't see, then tries again. "My name is Kanaya. Kanaya Maryam."

"Vriska Serket," you say, back turned to her. You rummage around in your pack for your pain meds, then stop. Even though you really don't care what she thinks of you, it's probably not the best for her to see you popping pills like they're Tic Tacs.

You glance at her perfectly tailored skirt and black sweater. She's definitely one of your hometown's rich folk, who is coming to Skaia Tech on her parent's money. You wish you even had that option. No, your parents might as well be dead for the good they did you. You're a scholarship kid, majoring in neuroscience and minoring in psychology. You can't help it - you're fascinated by the mind.

Still, it's a wonder you've made it this far. You have more than a few bad habits: smoking, partying, other reckless activities you don't care to mention. Not to mention the pain meds you can't stop taking, even though you don't need them anymore. A few months ago they had been an actual prescription. After the loss of your arm, and the painful attachment of a metal prosthetic built by your friend Equius, you'd literally survived on those pills.

You're certain that Kanaya is burning with questions. You sometimes think you are a walking mystery to people that don't know you - you wear an eye patch and your left arm is made of metal. It's remarkably similar to a real arm, but it's still a fake. A fakey fake fake that you wouldn't even need if not for your stupid mother and your stupid life.

You turn around, ready for her to bombard you with her curiosities. She is now reclining on her bed and reading what looks like a romance novel, and it is clear that she has no interest in asking you anything about your exremely interesting if not traumatic life. You huff to yourself and retreat to the bathroom, which is barely bigger than a closet. How rude of her.

This is stupid of you. You have no reason to be here, so you wait a second to make it seem like you had a purpose before going back to your bed. She still isn't interested in your affairs. Well, screw her! You don't need her attention. You don't even _know _her.

Fortunately, there's a lot to do, and you're too busy to fume over Kanaya. You go about sorting your clothes into the tiny dresser at the foot of your bed. Your first class begins at nine in the morning, and it's almost ten P.M. right now. You are a major insomniac and think it's best to get to bed as soon as possible.

You are just tossing your textbooks onto your desk - some of them flip open or tumble off, and you can't express how much you don't care - when she speaks. "If I may ask, what's your class schedule?"

You hand her the assignment paper. She compares it to her own and says, "We have English I, Computer Tech, and Calculus together."

"Great." You draw the word out a little. Your infinite sleepless nights are catching up, and you need to toss and turn and doze for two-minute intervals already. That's the closest you can get to sleep these days.

"Good night," she says simply. She has already gone to the bathroom and washed up, now wearing a silk camisole-and-shorts ensemble as she tucks herself in. You repeat the pleasantry. God, you're more mechanic than your left arm.

Once you've brushed your teeth and changed into sweat pants and a tank top, you flick off the light and sigh. What a shitty day. You'd sort of been hoping for a college with wild parties and maybe a little sleeping around, to add to your mile-long list of issues. Skaia Tech does not fit this description.

You lie down and squeeze your pillow between your arms, letting your head fall a little awkwardly to the bare mattress. You forgot to bring sheets. Of course. What a wonderful fucking start to your college life.

/~|~\

Kanaya is nice enough to wake you up at seven-thirty. This is a little early for your tastes, for you'd actually slipped into something close to sleep and it had felt _so_ good, but you groggily thank her anyway and roll out of bed. She's definitely a morning person. She is already dressed, groomed, and holding her messenger bag, packed with her laptop, a notebook or two, and some pens.

The dorms of Skaia Tech don't have any sort of common room or kitchen area, so Kanaya is making coffee when you emerge from the bathroom, dressed and mostly presentable. Mostly. She offers you a mug, but you decline, only because you just swallowed a few pills and shouldn't be mixing caffeine into the mess that is your stomach. It's a tough choice, too. You haven't eaten in over a day and a half.

Unfortunately, thanks to your new class schedule, your hours at the crappy bookstore on Second Street have been cut back, and you can barely make enough money to pay for the little things your scholarship doesn't cover. Somehow food was placed under education on your priorities list. Oh well. As sad as it sounds, you're used to going hungry. Man, you're really pathetic today.

Even though neither of you propose it, you end up walking downstairs and outside together. No words are exchanged. The two of you are an odd pair - you, with your self-destructive behavior, and her, with her prim and proper demeanor. You cannot imagine how someone can look so composed all the time.

You have English together. The classroom is more of a lecture hall, with three raised half-circles of seats extending outwards and upwards from a chalkboard and desk. You sit down in the furthest row, seat closest to the door. Kanaya silently debates sitting next to you and opts for the seat directly in front of yours.

Another student in class is a kid with messy black hair, nearly the same shade as yours, and a deep scowl. He is slouched in the middle row and trying hard not to snap the pencil in his fist. You smirk to yourself. _Good old Karkat. _His stoner friend, rich kid Gamzee Makara, blonde and grinning and way too stupid to be in college without his dad's cash, lounges in the seat next to Karkat's.

The next students to enter come in a group of four. Two boys and two girls. Two blondes and two brunettes. They are weirdly matched up, and fill the first four seats, chatting excitedly. You're a little envious of their camaraderie. You've never been good with making friends, since most people can't see past your moderately hostile front. The friends you do make are often driven away. Like Terezi Pyrope, your best friend in the world for basically your entire childhood, until she dumped you. All because you let some guys beat up that little dork Tavros Nitram. It's not your fault they crippled him.

Speak of the devil. The door opens, and who should arrive but Terezi, Tavros, and ooh, bonus! More people that hate you. Sollux Captor and Aradia Megido. Sollux doesn't grace you with a single look as he sits down, but his antagonistic behavior is pretty justified. You did, for all intents and purposes, start his addiction to alcohol when he was only in the tenth grade. But how would you have known one swig of vodka behind the computer lab would turn him into an alcoholic?

It only got progressively worse, and Sollux started missing school and being violent, even with his girlfriend Aradia. You wince, because you remember her showing up to class on a few occasions with a black eye or split lip. It was indirectly your doing, after all. When Sollux really snapped and nearly strangled her to death, he was sent away to a rehab center down south. He missed all of junior year and some of senior year. Apparently he's clean now, which is good for him, you guess. You don't remember what being clean even is.

Terezi helps Tavros wheel his chair out of the way of the walkway and sits down with Karkat just as the door opens again. This time, everyone groans a little. Eridan Ampora and Feferi Peixes. Great. Feferi's not that bad - a little perky for your taste, but nice enough - but Eridan is a nightmare. You've been in a full-out war with him since middle school, even though your fights sometimes end in sloppy makeouts, but that's beside the point. He's a bigger douche than you and Karkat combined.

Feferi is the daughter of the oil tycoon that raised your town, the heiress to her company, and rolling in cash. It's a wonder she isn't a total bitch. Eridan, the son of another wealthy business man, is probably the second richest guy in town, and therefore a pompous little prick. Not a lot of people talk to him. Only Feferi, who insists he's a good guy beneath his incredibly unlikeable front. You think you can relate to that.

The last students to pile into the miniaturized lecture hall are Equius Zahhak and Nepeta Leijon. They sit down a few seats away from you, not caring to strike up conversation. Equius was cool enough to build you a prosthetic limb for pocket change, since you wouldn't have been able to afford anything else, but only because you were neighbors for a lot of your childhood. He knows the shit you've dealt with. You know he pities you, but you've stopped caring at this point.

The professor - old, balding, and wearing too much tweed - sweeps into the room and begins his lecture. You struggle to tune in. Despite your vices, you actually do well in school; you've been pretty careful to always be top of your class. You know there's no way out of your hellhole of a town without a college degree. And you will do whatever you have to to get away from your home.

You take detailed notes and read the assigned chapters thoroughly. You write down the homework assignment neatly in your notebook, and as you're shoving everything away, you catch Kanaya glancing back at you. It's inconspicuous. She has turned sideways to check something in her bag, but you see her eyes creep in your direction.

The next class is not with Kanaya. It's your Biology class and you're stuck with those four friends - John, Rose, Dave, and Jade - and a few other unfamiliar faces. You don't care. You're too focused to dwell on much else aside from your pen scribbling across your paper.

You have a pretty long break before your computer lab. Three and a half whole hours. What to do, what to do . . .

The campus is nicer than you thought it would be. Lots of grass and trees with the leaves falling off, all red and brown and orange. The buildings are all red brick. You are currently leaning against one of these buildings - you think it's one of the science departments. Doesn't matter. You turn up the collar of your jacket against the biting fall wind and light a cigarette, letting the match warm your fingers, the flame so close that you think your skin will melt away. It doesn't. Sometimes you want to melt away, but you revel in your own shitty life too much to ever want an easy way out.

Your stomach growls. So, nicotine is not what it wants. That much is clear. But you only have a few bucks on you, and you figure if you wait until night fall, you, like every other needy college kid ever, can stock up on ramen noodles and feast while Kanaya is in her fashion design class. That's what she's enrolled in Skaia Tech to become. A fucking fashion designer.

You let the spent cigarette fall to the gravel, adjust your eye patch that you secretly hate wearing, even though you make everyone believe you think it's cool, and push away from the building. You pretend not to notice Kanaya watching you from across the courtyard as you go. The burning curiosity is finally igniting in her, you guess.

You walk around until you come to the crippling conclusion that the campus is boring as hell, and finally retreat to your room. You curl up on your bed with one of Kanaya's books - vampire romance, you cannot even believe what you're reading - and try to ignore your raging hunger and the fact that you really want a drink or maybe a pill, but you've already swallowed a few, and that could kill you. Any of your habits could kill you. One of these days, you figure someone will stumble on your corpse, and you think your mother won't even go to the funeral.

Kanaya's book is so spectacularly bad that it puts the starving insomniac to sleep. That's a miracle if you've ever seen one. You are awoken by a sharp, if not clear voice and a hand on your shoulder.

"Vriska, please wake up."

You blink, glad you have a contact in and can therefore recognize Kanaya leaning over you. "Oh. Shit. How long have I been asleep?"

"You missed the computer lab," she says, shaking her head. "Really, you shouldn't miss class. It's not doing you any good-"

"I fell asleep," you say simply. You are so tired and hungry and pissed off because you've already missed a class. You press the heel of your hand into your working eye. "Fuck, I can't believe I missed the first class-"

Before you can start freaking out, Kanaya calms you with a gentle pat on the shoulder. "It's alright. The professor only read the syllabus to us and let us talk for the rest of the class. You're very lucky, you know."

"Yeah. Lucky. I have all the luck, don't you know?" You push yourself into a sitting position and gingerly hand her her book. "Heh. This is sort of what put me to sleep, thanks for that, I think."

"My pleasure." She gives you a wry smile and reshelves the book on her nightstand. "I suppose everyone needs to sleep off their responsibilities every now and then. I wouldn't recommend making a habit of this, though."

"It's a wonder I slept that long at all," you blurt. Shit. Now she knows you don't sleep a lot, and you don't want her to pity you the way everyone else does, because you have enough pity to start the National Bank of Pity and fill every vault with all of your pity. Well, maybe that's a little dramatic. But you did get a lot of pity as a kid. All of the neighbors knew your mother was a drunk and didn't look after her poor little daughter, and then you grew into a poor little delinquent, and the pity increased tenfold. Especially when you left home with a hand print on your cheek or a scar you hadn't had before . . .

"Are you not sleeping well?" She is so concerned, sitting on her bed and watching you with genuine interest. When was the last time someone actually cared about your wellbeing?

"I'm fine!" This comes out too rushed. Great, now she's suspicious. "Totally, completely fine. Don't worry about it."

"If you say so." She looks at her alarm clock. You really have been out for a while; it's almost eight P.M. and the sky is dark. "Well, I'm going to have dinner with my mother and father tonight - I hope I can trust you to take care of yourself in my absence?"

You get angry at this for some reason. You figure it's because she doesn't even know you, and she has no business caring about what you do. You tell her as much. She purses her lips, but only to hide a smile. _She's amused by your anger. This is not okay._

A few hours later, she finds you collapsed on the ground, having broken into the bottle of Smirnoff you'd been saving for a while. So much for taking care of yourself.


	2. Stupid Lousy Goddamn Alcohol

**To the anon: Why yes, I believe Eridan/Feferi will fit right in here! MUAHAHAHA EVIL LAUGHTER but no seriously I love that ship.**

* * *

It turns out there _are _some wild parties at Skaia Tech.

You stumble back to your dorm, all kinds of high and drunk, and knock on the wall (though, in your defense, you were aiming for the door). Of course Kanaya is still awake at four in the morning, waiting up for you. She yanks you inside by the arm and shuts the door.

She wants to know what in God's name you did, but before you can laugh and say you don't believe in God, you feel vomit rising in your throat. You kick the bathroom door shut behind you and throw up until you feel empty. This is not a hugely pleasant experience, and when it's done, you are curled up on the bathroom floor with your flushed cheek on the cold tile.

Kanaya peeks in and sighs at the sight of you. This would have earned her a middle finger, but you're so drained you can only blink at her. You mumble in protest when she half-carries you to your bed and dumps you there, none too gently, you might add.

"Please go to sleep," she says, exasperated. You are happy to oblige.

At least, you want to sleep. Your body has other ideas.

You sort of wiggle around for a while, and when that doesn't work you punch your pillow into submission. Then there's the matter of the still-bare mattress, which you keep rolling around on and clawing at. After a while your covers mysteriously end up strangling your legs. Weird.

A groan floats over from the other side of the room. This is a warning, but you're a very restless sleeper, even if you are totally wasted. There's a squeak from her bed springs as she stands up. Trapped by your covers and defenseless, you only grumble some swear words when she grabs your forearm.

Of course, you don't expect her to casually toss you on the ground and climb back into her bed like nothing.

"What the fuck," you whisper against the carpet. You are to weak and tired to drag yourself back to your bed, and admittedly, this is more comfortable. Don't ask why. You really don't know.

Grudgingly, you hiss "Thanks," not sure if she's even awake, and drift off into rocky, but still satisfying, sleep.

/~|~\

Apparently you have lost all cognitive abilities.

Why, oh why, did you decide to go to a party two days before a huge fucking test? You will never know. Now you have one day to study obsessively.

Problem? Every time you so much as glance at a text book, your head sets to pounding. Your first attempt to actually read from one ended in you physically being sick. Currently, you are nursing some of Kanaya's coffee (you take it black, two sugars, and burn-your-tongue hot) and sitting on the window sill.

"It's almost three," Kanaya informs you. She has no problem studying, writing by the sunlight that manages to slip past you. "You should at least review the chapters."

You make a sound close to a hiss and draw your knees up to your chest, shoulders down, hands in a vise around your styrofoam cup. She shakes her head at you and goes back to actually getting some work done. You figure you can procrastinate for a while longer, or at least until your headache dulls down. The pain behind your eyebrows is too powerful to be ignored in its current state.

Your phone ringing is like a jackhammer to the head. _"Shit." _The noise is hellish. You fumble around your side of the room, retrieve it from your drawer, and pick up without checking the caller I.D.

_"What."_

The person on the line pauses at your borderline-demonic tone. "Wwhat the fuck Vvris? No, that's not important. I need your help."

"Why would I want to help you," you whisper, your voice dangerously low, "when you can't even pronounce my first name?"

"Oh, come on. It's about Fef."

You rub your temple and exhale sharply. "Eridan, I'm dealing with the worst hangover of my life right now. What do you need? Make it quick, my brain is imploding as we speak."

"Look, she's been gettin' kinda . . . distant, I guess? And really closed off. Wwhat the hell am I supposed to do about this?"

"Nothing, dumbass," you laugh. "You can't make her be friends with you. Or anything more than that."

He huffs at you. "Thanks for the help, bitch. Talk about useless."

"Great. We're in agreement, then." You move to hang up the phone.

"Wwait! I'm sorry, please help. No one else wwill give me the time a' day."

"Okaaaaaaaay," you drawl. "How about this: Stop smothering her! You're always in the middle of her business. Just, cool off for a few days."

"Then wwhat do I do?"

"Bring her coffee or something small like that. I don't know. Nothing flashy, no one really likes that."

He sighs in relief. "Thanks, Vvris. You're a life savver."

"I know. I'm a saint."

He says goodbye and hangs up. You wonder how you went from his hate-crush to his romantic counselor, then remember that your headache has not gone away, and you really need to study, and you're out of coffee. Jesus, college is the _worst_.

You open the window, even though your room is on the third floor and you can easily fall to your death from here. You hug the sill between your thighs and pat your pockets for your lighter.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is calm as ever, but her eyes betray her panic. "Close the window before you kill yourself."

"Oh, shoosh," you murmur around a cigarette. You find the red Bic and light up. "I just thought I'd be nice and blow smoke out there instead of in here. Jeez."

She purses her lips. Even she can't deny that you were being thoughtful, and she must be glad that you're keeping the room clean. "Well, you don't have to sit there."

"Uh-huh." You're preoccupied by the people walking the grounds below. You figure they don't have anything to study for, or else they wouldn't be milling around down there.

She fusses at you until you slide to the floor, turning your head at an awkward angle every time you need to exhale. The cigarette is helping a little. You hope that within the hour you'll be able to force feed information to your brain, no matter how painful it will be. The price you pay for knowledge, you think, sighing.

An hour and two cigarettes later, you drag yourself to your desk and unearth your notes. You can already tell this will be a long day. You try to convince yourself that it will be worth it, when one day you're this really successful surgeon, and you'll look back and be glad that you struggled through and passed your classes. But your head still hurts and you really don't feel like it.

Kanaya finishes her work at half past five, which is understandable, considering she's been at it since ten in the morning. By those calculations you'll be done by about midnight. Wonderful. What a fabulous day you've been having.

/~|~\

Your name is Eridan Ampora, and you can do this, goddammit.

But it's hard. You're trying to utilize Vriska's advice, but staying away from Feferi is like asking the sun to stay away from the sky. Fuckin' _impossible_. You take a deep breath and roll over. You don't care if it's late afternoon; your bed is quite comfortable.

Your roommate Equius is gone, so you take it upon yourself to mope your little heart out. Your eyes keep hopping to your phone. Half of you wants her to call, and the other half wants her to ignore you. It's very confusing and you hate your emotions.

God, you should be on a crappy TV show. Boy is in love with best friend, who doesn't feel the same. Boy hides feelings and is friend-zoned forever. Boy dies alone and miserable. You can't believe this is how your life is right now.

When the phone rings, you dive for it, reading the caller I.D. hesitantly. You don't know what to think as you hold the phone to your ear.

"Hey, Eridan!"

"Hey, Fef." You wince. Vriska's plan is falling through the cracks.

"Are you okay? You sound like you're in pain."

You silently curse yourself and answer, "No, I'm fine."

"Well, that's great to hear! I'm going out to dinner with my parents tonight, and we really want you to come."

"Um." Shit, shit, this is not what you'd expected. But this is what you want, right? For her to be your friend? Well, maybe you want something more than friendship, but this will have to do. You clear your throat. "Alright. Sounds good."

"Great! See you at my house, seven sharp."

"Great," you repeat. You are incredibly conflicted as you hang up and change into dressier clothes. Feferi's mother and father are the pinnacle of high society in your town, and should always be impressed. No jeans and a T-shirt in front of them, no sir.

What have you gotten yourself into?

/~|~\

Despite your worries, dinner goes over well, and Mr. and Mrs. Peixes are as welcoming as ever. They are practically your second parents, after all. This makes it a bit awkward for you, since you harbor romantic feelings for their daughter, but so far they have no idea. You hope.

You step out onto the lawn in front of the Peixes' immaculate home, Feferi at your side. Your car is parked on the circular drive.

"Thanks for coming over," Fef says gratefully. "When you're around they don't fight with me as much. They don't get that I don't want to run the company one day, no matter what I say."

"No problem." You lean against the hood of the car, towering over her. You don't remember when you gained so much height on her.

"Will you give me a ride back to campus?" she asks suddenly, surprising you. "My car is still there."

"Sure."

"Thanks! I just need to go change. Be right back."

She hurries back inside, and you retreat into your car with a sigh. You don't know how much more of this you can take. Friend-zone is the worst zone.

You ease the car forward as she comes into view, stopping to allow her to buckle herself in, then accelerating. The streets are as quiet and empty as ever. Your town is never exactly jumping. You don't mind all that much, especially when you're trying to think. Like now.

You're both silent. These silences are comfortable to her, but to you, they are absolutely despicable. You want to say something but don't know what to say, so you keep your eyes focused on the dark road and wait for her to speak. She doesn't. You drive all the way to S.T.U. in complete wordlessness.

You cut the engine in front of her dorm building. She has one hand on the door, but doesn't leave.

"Hey, Eridan." She glances at you shyly. "I just want to thank you for being here. I mean, I haven't been the best friend ever recently, and I'm sorry, it's just that -"

You cut her off because your lips have suddenly found their way onto hers, and wow, you can't believe it's taken you this long to do this, this is probably the greatest feeling in the world. She makes a startled noise against your mouth. Then, miraculously, she reciprocates, leaning closer to you. You almost make a startled noise of your own. Jesus christ, why haven't you been doing this all the time, it's heavenly-

She throws open the passenger door and flees to her dorm. Just like that. No words, not even eye contact. This makes you think you have royally fucked up. Your forehead presses against the steering wheel, and you stay parked there for a while. When her room's window goes black, you swallow and head for the east side of campus. It's about time you curl into a self-loathing ball under your sheets.

/~|~\

You are Vriska Serket again. You are running on about twelve minutes of sleep, but dammit, you got your studying done and you are sitting in class, ready for that test. There's a wealth of gossip today. The main piece is that Feferi is completely ignoring Eridan, which leads you to believe he didn't follow your directions. Jerk. You say nothing as he sits down in the back with you, since without Feferi on his side, there's really no one else for him to sit with.

"I tried to take your advice," he says, not looking at you. "But I fucked everythin' up."

"I can see that." You're not coddling him. He should learn to come to terms with his own failure.

"Thanks for the support," he mutters, resting his chin on his arms. "I can't believve I kissed her."

"Ooh, saucy." You nudge him with your elbow. "No wonder she's avoiding you."

He buries his face in his arms and groans incoherently. You would mess with him some more, but the professor has entered, and the test is beginning. You steel yourself. The hours of preparation you have spent had better pay off, because you still feel the ghost of that headache.

The test is by no means a breeze, but you think you'll pass well enough. Which is good. You're really glad you have the next three days without class. As you're leaving the room, feeling almost good for the first time in a while, you groan and remember you have work tonight. This revelation reminds you that you had work yesterday, too.

Fuck.

There's a missed call when you get back to your dorm, and a voicemail to go with it. The number is your boss's. Panicked now, you listen to the message with growing anxiety.

Some of it is hard to hear, but you get the gist: You've missed a lot of work recently. They have to let you go. You drop the phone on your bed. Some of your best swear words, the kind you reserve for your mother, slip out. Well, fuck. So much for your college career. The scholarship you have makes up for a lot of the expenses, but some things it can't cover, which is where your job came into play.

The job that you no longer have.

You repeat: Fuck.


	3. The Hardest Case Yet

"And now I don't know what to do without that job," you conclude, twisting around in bed to meet Kanaya's eyes. She's sitting on the floor, listening intently. You can't complain about her all the time. At least she's kind enough to hear your problems, even though you sound like a soap opera at the moment.

"When is your next tuition payment due?" she asks, a look of concentration on her face.

"Saturday. And it's already Wednesday. God, I'm so screwed."

"That's quitter talk," she says. "Come on. We're going to find you a job."

She wraps her scarf around her neck and waits for you to move. You don't. "Sorry, Fussyfangs. There's no way I can get hired and paid in three days. I'm out of the game."

"Oh, stop moping," she says, exasperated. "You can't just give up. Can't you ask your parents for the money?"

You answer that with a short, bitter laugh. "Yeah right. My mother barely has enough money to pay for her own rent. And dearest father? Let me call him. Oh wait, I can't! I don't even know his name, for Christ's sake."

She gives you a pity-laden look, which is killing you. As you have already mentioned, pity is the bane of your existence.

"I'll think of something," she says, resolved. "I promise."

You don't know why she cares so much. If anything, you've made her life more difficult; she should be glad that you'll be gone. And, bonus, she'll get a room to herself. "Okay. Thanks, I guess."

She finds her purse and leaves, off for her marketing essentials class. You wait by the window until she's completely out of sight. Dropping onto your stomach, you wriggle halfway under your bed and dig out your old copy of _To Kill A Mockingbird_. You absolutely hate the book. The wrongly accused died, and even if you think happy endings are overrated, you were still pissed about that particular plotline. Fortunately, the book serves another purpose: You've hollowed it out.

You flip through the first wrinkled pages (the book is ancient) and find the compartment. Nestled in the hollow is a modest wad of money, thirty-six dollars if you remember correctly, and a note, from yourself to future you. You decide you are definitely future you by now.

The note is scribbled in blue ink on the back of a useless lotto ticket. You read it, though you know it by heart. _You've got all the luck. All of it._ This is code for, "Everything's gone to hell, so blow this at the casino and hope for the best." You stow the money in your jacket pocket and kick the book back under the bed.

Hell, you might as well. Thirty-six bucks won't help you anyway. Might as well invest it. A small voice in the back of your head reminds you that this is a bad idea, and the last time you went to the casino in the city, you ended up losing a good chunk of your savings. That was back when you still believed you had all the luck. Ha. Yeah right.

But this time you really have nothing to lose. And Kanaya will be busy in class for two and a half hours...

Maybe you are regaining your luck, because the city bus rolls up to the bus stop just as you arrive. It's crowded. You're forced to stand, holding the strap hanging from the ceiling. The money feels heavy in your pocket. For whatever reason, you feel guilty, even though there's nothing wrong with a last desperate roll of the dice, a last shot at keeping your scholarship.

You exit a few streets away from the casino and walk the rest of the way, hands deep in your pockets. You've left your suburban nightmare of a town for the bustling city enough times that your surroundings are familiar. You flash I.D. at the casino's door and pass through the marble lobby, the pretty entrance to an ugly place.

The wad of money clenched in your fist, you step into the noise and flashing lights.

/~|~\

Your name is Kanaya Maryam. You have just returned from your marketing essentials class, and for reasons unknown, your roommate is no where to be found. This is cause for alarm. Of course, she is legally an adult and therefore has every right to do what she pleases, but you still worry. You worry about her more than you should, now that you think on it.

You aren't surprised. For most of your sheltered life, you have been drawn to the danger and intrigue of others. Sure, you have friends that are as mild as you. But that doesn't mean you aren't attracted to those special people that could care less about everything. Vriska Serket is the embodiment of this. She swears like a sailor, smokes cigarettes constantly, and drinks whenever she can. She's the poster child for "What Not To Do With Your Life."

Well, congratulations. You have found your latest infatuation. Now for the worst part of your endless quest for interest in your life, which is the repairs era. You can't come across as severe a case of screw-up as hers and not try to help, in your unique way. By unique you mean fussy.

When she traipses inside, she's on cloud nine. You instantly suspect drugs. When she's sober, she's part snarky, part mopey, with just a dash of light-heartedness. This dash is your motivation. On the other hand, when she's under the influence, she's very distant and unresponsive. No hallucinations at least. This airiness is completely foreign to you. Soon, you will learn that this is her "All the luck" mood.

"Hey there, McFussyfangs. May I call you Meddlesome?"

"You may call me Kanaya," you clarify. "You may also tell me where you were, and why you're so happy."

She falls onto her bed, grinning foolishly. Her jacket falls open. You can see something lumpy in both pockets, but before you can ask about them, she speaks. "I got all the luck back, Kanaya. All of it."

When you only quirk a sculpted eyebrow, she sighs and tries again. "I went to the casino and made a killing. See, that just wasn't as fun to say."

"The casino," you repeat flatly. This tone of voice is your incredulous, skeptical, slightly angry one. It's usually reserved for Vriska these days.

"Yes, the casino." She grins at you - the nerve of her, calling you McFussyfangs when her teeth are sharper than yours - and rolls onto her side. "Guess you're not getting rid of me that easily. I have the money I needed and then some."

You rub your temple. "You're telling me you took the last of your savings to a sleazy casino, risked them all, and somehow made off with more than you started with?"

"Yep." She flashes you a striking grin - you bet she could be stunning if she would smile more. "Come on, Kanaya. It wasn't even forty bucks."

You sigh and sit down on your bed, facing her. "How much did you make?"

She reaches into her pockets and lets crumpled bills fall to the floor between you and her. "Well, I've got one-fifty here, and when you add that to the _two grand_ I put in the bank on the way here, I've got over two g's."

Her grin is the grin of an addict's.

"Alright," you say, trying to be sensible. "You got lucky today. But luck doesn't last forever. At least promise you won't be going back there."

"Are you _kidding _me? I've never had this much money in my life. Of course I'm going back!"

You cross your arms sternly. "You have enough to pay for tuition. Now you can look for a real job."

"Who says gambling isn't a real job?" She smirks at you. She's way too smug about this, and you know it'll hurt you when she loses everything. Because that's how casinos work. They make you feel lucky and then rob you blind.

"Everyone with an ounce of common sense," you remind her. "I expect you to take my advice and find actual employment."

"And what if I don't? You're not my mother!" She seems to regret saying this, which makes you wonder once again about her home life. The hints and clues you've gathered thus far are disconcerting.

You make your tone more reasonable. "I know I'm not. But is it such a crime to want the best for you?"

"Yes! Why do you even care?"

You can't tell her about the infatuation, because that would be weird and creepy. Instead, you say, "I'm only doing what I think is right. Now please promise me you'll get a real job? One that doesn't involve casinos?"

She gives you a long-suffering look, but that's good; it means you're winning. "Fine. Whatever you say, McFussyfangs." She plucks a book out from under her bed and packs the money she's brought back into it, replacing it and standing up again.

"Guess I'm going job searching," she says to no one in particular, slipping outside. Once the door is closed you climb into your bed and sigh against your pillow. This will be your hardest case yet.

/~|~\

**Sorry for the short chapter/long wait. I promise the next one will be more satisfying, but this one is a bit of a bridge. Also, thanks for all the wonderful reviews! I thought this fic would be ignored in the wake of monster ships like DaveJohn and JohnKat. (I will proudly say that I don't care for either of those ships. My OTP is JohnVris forever, with VrisKan at a close second.)**


	4. Fuck You, Maryam

When Kanaya told you to get a real job, she probably meant a coffee shop or a department store.

You have somehow become the barmaid at the shitty little bar on Washington and Pike.

Of course, she has a problem with this, even though it's paying better than your bookstore-bullshit job. A lot better. Yeah, it's not the ideal place of employment, but it's not like you're trying to make it at the casino. You have found a stable source of income. If she can't be happy with that, she needs to lower her standards.

You have the late shift, ten P.M. to four A.M., which is fine. This way you'll never miss a class. More perks come to your attention your first night on the job. Employee discount on every drink is your favorite, first and foremost. Then there's student night, or as most people call it, college kid happy hour.

Tonight is student night.

After a lot of wheedling, you have managed to get Kanaya to drop by. She sits down at the bar. The way her shoulders are set and the way she cringes whenever someone walks past her tells you she's incredibly uncomfortable, so you slide a beer her way and tell her it's free. This is a lie. You're going to pay for that one, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her.

"I can't believe you work here," she says, taking a sip gingerly.

You grin, shrug, and start mixing a cocktail. "I think it suits me."

The cocktail goes to Karkat, who eyes it like he suspects you've poisoned it. He goes to sit down with Tavros, Gamzee, Equius and Sollux. Looking around, you can see a lot of your classmates lounging around. Eridan sits by himself in the corner. Feferi, Nepeta, Aradia, and Terezi occupy a table in the center.

"Oh, it's good now." Kanaya smirks smugly. "But just wait until you have a class at eight o'clock in the morning."

You admit, this will be hell on your nonexistent sleep cycle. But there are way too many pros wrapped up with this place. "I'll get through it."

She just sighs. You have to leave her, because Skaia Tech's girls soccer team is sitting next to her at the bar. They are all very athletic and very drunk. Unfortunately, they haven't had enough to allow you to cut them off yet, so you slide them another round of beers. Jesus Christ they're drunk.

"You'll have to deal with these people all the time," Kanaya tells you. She's still campaigning for you to quit. You try to tell her to shut up, because they can hear her, but it's too late for that.

The girl closest to her swivels in her stool and fixes Kanaya with a dirty look. "What do you mean, 'these people?'"

"I was referring to your level of intoxication." Oh my _god_, Kanaya, now is not the time to be a smartass.

The girl (who is very muscular, just like her friends) sets her drink down hard on the counter. Shit. Shit shit shit. "What did you say to me, bitch?"

Well, that escalated quickly.

"I said, I was referring to your level of intoxication. I didn't realize you were hard of hearing," is Kanaya's biting reply.

_Fuck. Kanaya. Your sass is not helping._

The soccer player is at that stage of drunkenness where it's perfectly fine to start a bar fight, and her hand cracks across Kanaya's cheek before you have time to intervene. Instant silence. Everyone watches warily as Kanaya's head slowly faces front again. The expression she's wearing is at the "shit-your-pants" level on the holy-shit-that's-scary meter. Even you would cower away from that look. You fully expect your roommate to hit the girl right back.

But you get there first.

Fuck your job, fuck being reasonable in any way, you are pissed. Vaulting over the bar, your left fist connects with the girl's nose. You realize a second later that hitting someone with your left hand is basically like swinging a metal bat at them. Whoops. It doesn't matter, because your hand has already coiled back and swung forward again.

Someone pulls you off the girl. You think it's Kanaya for a moment, but these hands are too rough. It occurs to you that you just jumped into a five-to-one fight, with you being the one.

The soccer player that has grabbed you from behind slams a fist into the back of your head. You see stars, stumbling forward blindly. An unforgiving knee meets your stomach a few times, and once you're released, you slump forward. Wow, _fuck_, that really hurt and this is one of the stupidest things you've done in a while.

Apparently they aren't done beating the shit out of you, because a fist barrels into your jaw. Vaguely, you see people moving into break up the fight. _About fucking time._

You're shoved into a table. Glass shatters, but by this point you have collapsed on the ground and have no intention of standing up for a really long time. Taking stock of your inventories, you come to the conclusion that the back of your head is possibly caved in, your jaw feels like it's broken even though you're pretty sure it's just bruised, and you don't even want to think about the throbbing pain in your abdomen. You think you'll just lie here instead.

Equius, in all his muscular glory, picks up two of the girls at once and escorts them outside. Some guys you don't know drag the others out as well. This is for the best, since you feel like you're going to throw up. Or die.

Someone hovers over you, hands nervously fluttering around. God, you haven't been this screwed up in a while. There's a crunch of broken glass as more people begin to gather around your pathetically limp form. Voices blend together, a painful symphony of whispers.

You reluctantly open one eye and see Kanaya's worried face. She's saying something. You try to tune in, but your ears are ringing.

You try to protest when someone pulls you into a sitting position, but all that comes out is a groan. The broken glass on the floor has left tiny cuts on your right arm. Slowly the bar comes back into focus, slowly and painfully, you might add.

"Can you hear me?" Kanaya asks. She kneels in front of you, trying to hold your wandering gaze. You only nod.

"That was incredibly rash and frankly a bit stupid," she tells you.

"Fuck you, Maryam."

/~|~\

Your supervisor comes inside soon after and basically flips his shit; you would've lost your job had it not been for John Egbert. He kindly explained that you'd tried to break up a fight and that was how you'd ended up nearly incapacitated. You should thank John later for that.

Kanaya drives you to the hospital, even though you tell her you don't need it, you're fine, it's just a scratch. Eridan tags along. You don't know if he's concerned or just lonely. Probably both, but what do you know? The doctor says you have a concussion, which means you shouldn't go to sleep for a little while, and you sustained a contusion of the liver. That's doctor-talk for your liver took a beating. All in all, you're supposed to rest up and do nothing strenuous and hold an ice pack to your bruised jaw.

You have no problem curling up in bed for hours on end, feeling pitiful but trying not to show it. You don't want Kanaya to fuss over you, except you sort of really do, but at the same time you just want her to stop checking on you. In any case, you pretend you feel better than you do for her sake. She blames herself for the whole ordeal. Frankly, it is kind of her fault, though you didn't have to jump over a bar and come to her rescue.

You still don't know why you did it. It wasn't a conscious decision, just an instinct, something you would've done at the drop of a hat. Hell if you know why. You've never known yourself to be very protective on anything, except maybe yourself, and even then you don't exactly treat yourself like a princess.

Kanaya finds you in her bed that night when she comes back from some errand or another. She quirks an eyebrow at you. "Care to share why you're in _my _bed when you have a perfectly good one right there?"

"Yours smells better," you murmur into her lavender-scented sheets. You don't know what your sheets smell like, only because you still don't have any.

You have to wait a while for her reply, since she goes into the bathroom, showering and brushing her teeth and changing. When she emerges you are unimaginably comfortable in her covers.

"This may be true," she says, standing in front of you with her arms crossed. "But it's no excuse. Please vacate the bed."

You mumble incoherently and scooch back until you're pressed against the wall. You might be recovering, but there's a very slim chance of her being able to drag you away now. You have made up your mind. This is where you are staying, damn it.

"So be it." The three words are said as if she has been dealing with this for so long, as if your antics tire her very much and she has given up. She steals the pillow from you and settles down next to you, not caring that the tiny twin bed leaves a centimeter of space between you and does nothing to fight the flow of body heat between you.

You huff. The nerve of her! There's really no way to help it, so you repeat an earlier sentiment.

"Fuck you, Maryam."

/~|~\

It's astoundingly embarrassing to wake up like that, and you end up rolling over her in your haste to get away. Stupid. You hit the floor hard, doing nothing to help your healing injuries, and wake her up in the process. She looks down at you with distaste.

"That was uncalled for." She steps over you and disappears into the bathroom. You swear at the closed door a few times, hating that you have to go back to class today.

Lousy goddamn stupid college.

/~|~\

Your name is Sollux Captor, and today, English I is more grueling than usual.

You slump in your seat. This is your least favorite class; there is no room for computer codes in an essay. The monotonous teacher doesn't alleviate the disinterest. It helps that a lot of your friends are in this class, or at least it would, if you cared more for other people. Sometimes you think you feel more strongly for your monitor than you do for the people in your life.

Aradia squeezes your hand from the seat next to yours. She smiles at you and faces front again, fingers threaded in yours. You tighten your hand around hers meekly. God, you don't deserve her, not after all the shit you've done to her. You don't know why she puts up with you. _You _don't even want to put up with you.

An irritating sound makes you look up. It's Terezi's cane, tapping a beat against the leg of her chair. Dave's head is nodding in rhythm. You almost dismiss it, then realize, a second too late, what he's doing.

"Yo, this one goes out to TZ," he begins, and more than a few people groan. Great. He's going to rap. You look to the door, praying for the professor to arrive for the first time ever.

_"My lyrics might surprise you with their efficiency, but I don't want to scare you with my badassery, that's right you little fuckers, that means class is in session, so if you feel like getting schooled then just sit down for the lesson..."_

"Holy fuck, Strider, shut up!" Karkat quips, holding his hands over his ears. Next to him, Gamzee seems to be enjoying the show.

"I second that," Vriska says from behind them, cupping her bruised jaw gingerly with one hand. Equius nods. The amount of sweat he's producing confirms that he is indeed uncomfortable. Nepeta patiently digs in her bag, unearthing a hand towel, which she passes to Equius.

Dave's on an unstoppable roll now. _"All you peons need to look up to your king, and if you're wondering, yes, I am your king, no I'm not expecting you to kiss my ring, but if you want to pledge allegiance we can work out something..."_

Terezi is grinning from ear to ear, still tapping. When Dave spits his last line, she cackles and hugs him. His face remains as stoic as ever.

"While that display of lyrical prowess was impressive," Rose says dryly, "I think it would be best if we limit the raps for now."

"Aw, what? Me and Tavbro have got some bitchtits rhymes too, I just got to up and motherfucking find them..." Gamzee makes a mess of his papers, crumpling them and occasionally dropping them to the floor and desk as he searches. Karkat throws a few swears his way and confiscates Gamzee's bag.

All in all, an average day.

**Haha, I am not a rapper. Also, poor Vriska. I'm so horrible to my patron troll!**


	5. Stupid Lousy Goddamn Alcohol, Part Two

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and you don't know what to do.

You decide it's time to consult your roommate.

"It's not that I don't like him, I really, really, do," you gush, clutching a pillow to your chest. "Eridan's my best friend in the world. And then he had to go and _kiss _me."

"Well, do you like him back romantically?" Aradia inquires, spinning around in her chair.

"I don't know," you sigh, even though you think you do. Sometimes Eridan looks like the perfect suitor, and then other times, you don't want to lose him as a best friend. You repeat this much to her. She nods understandingly.

"Of course you're afraid to lose him," she says knowingly. "That's normal. But you have to ask yourself if you really like him enough to give it a shot. Right now you two aren't even speaking. So, you can ignore it and let your relationship die, give him a chance, or tell him you want to remain friends."

You shut your eyes and moan. "Why are you so right?"

She graces you with one of her few fleeting smiles and shrugs.

Something bounces onto your bed spread. You raise an eyebrow at Aradia, who has thrown your cell phone to you.

"Call him," she urges, twisting around again to attack her homework.

You bite your lip and grip the phone with one hand. The _last _thing you want to do is talk to him, especially over the phone. But your thumb has other ideas. When you glance down, you notice that you've scrolled down to Eridan's number in your contact list without realizing. Darn it.

"Okay," you announce, pushing off your covers. "I'm doing it."

You go out into the hallway and close the door behind you, but because you really don't want anyone to overhear, you don't stop walking until you're in the stairwell. You sit on the topmost step and mentally prepare yourself. Not sure if this is the right thing to do anymore, you press the call button.

Oh, glub, it's ringing.

"Hello?" he answers. You assume he hasn't checked the caller I.D., because his voice is questioning.

"Shello!" you blurt, then silently curse yourself. Those stupid fish puns. They were funny back in middle school, and you've successfully weened yourself off of them, though when you're flustered they make their reappearance. Stupid stupid dumb...

"Fef?" he half-shouts. "Oh cod, I'm really fuckin' sorry, and I wwas a huge idiot for tryin' anyfin on you, and -"

"Sh." You cut off his frantic voice. "Eridan, calm down. I want to talk to you, not listen to you blubber."

He is obediently silent. You continue, "I wanted to talk to you about...us. But I don't know what 'us' is right now."

"Wwhatevver you wwant," he promises. "If you just wwant to stay friends, I get it."

"That's the thing. Maybe, sometimes, I don't just want to be fronds - um, friends." Coddamn fish puns.

He doesn't speak for a while. "Sometimes."

"Yes," you say in confirmation. "It's just that...we've been friends for a reely long time, and I don't want to ruin that."

"Okay," he says, even though you can tell he really wishes you thought otherwise.

"But I think that this is going to be a speed bump in our relationship forever. So." You screw your eyes shut in preparation for your next words. "I think we should give this dating thing a try."

You wait for his reply, expecting a loud, explosive show of emotion. Instead, there are several beats of silence. Then, finally: "Oh. Okay."

"Okay," you repeat.

"Okay."

"Okay."

"So..." He lets out a breath that sounds sort of fuzzy over the phone. "Now wwhat?"

"Well, people that are dating usually go on dates," you tell him. Cod, this is so incredibly awkward.

"Do you...do you wwant to go on a date wwith me?"

"Okay," you say, and allow a little grin. The word "Okay" has been thoroughly abused already. "What do you have in mind, Mr. Ampora?"

"It's a surprise. I'll pick you up at eight."

The line goes dead.

/~|~\

Your name is Vriska Serket, and you are too tired to function.

And yet, you are still functioning. Quite the conundrum.

You hate Sunday. This is the day when you don't have work, you don't have class, and since you don't have a decent social life, you end up doing stupid chores that will never be enjoyable. Right now it's laundry. The building's utility room is your current location, where you happen to be pouring detergent into the washing machine. You really like the color of the detergent. Probably because it's blue.

Your phone starts buzzing. You sit on one of the dormant machines and check to see who's calling, arching a brow in surprise. It's Eridan.

"Vvris you havve to help me," he shoots out. You can't even fit in a measly "Hey."

"What is it now, Fishboy?"

"It's Fef," he begins. You sigh. "I'm takin' her on a date tonight, and I told her it wwas a surprise, but I only said that because I don't knoww wwhat to do."

"Look, I'm not the one with a raging boner for her," you tell him, eloquently. You really have a way with words.

He blows out a breath loudly. "Oh, come on!"

"Fine." You give into his demands, if only so that he'll leave you alone. "Do you have any ideas yet?"

"There's this really nice aquarium in the city that she wwould like..."

"Well there you go."

Eridan makes an indignant noise in his throat, quipping, "I came to you for a fresh idea, not one of mine."

"But it's perfect," you promise him. "She would get a kick out of it."

"Are...are you sure?"

"Positive."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay. Thanks."

"Peace out, Gilled-Wonder." You hang up, wondering how that disaster date will go.

You still have a while before it's time to switch loads, which is not good. You hate having free time. In fact, you don't trust yourself with free time. You need something to distract yourself from...yourself. You are bad for yourself.

Even though you've been inside all day, you force yourself to troop back to your dorm room. You can't go outside. If you go outside, you'll smoke, and you're trying to cut back on the cancer sticks a little. Only because Kanaya's been bugging you about it a lot. Of course, she doesn't know that you're making an effort, because you simply cannot give her the satisfaction.

She's gone, off doing whatever she does, so you can suitably mope in bed for a while. Her bed, to be exact. She has yet to catch you (you are very careful to make the bed afterwards, but goddammit, her sheets smell like heaven).

You have reason enough to mope. For one thing, your abdomen still hurts like a bitch from the bar beat-down you were on the receiving end of (doesn't that stuff only happen in movies? Fuck it, you don't care. You're in pain). Furthermore, you really really really want to scrape up all the extra money you've gotten from this scummy job and blow it at the casino. And when you say "really really really want to" you mean, "Intense, burning, all-encompassing need."

But, damn it all, you can't.

This is because you have been infected with this thing called a conscience, and you hate it. In your head it sounds like Kanaya. Her and her stupid proper enunciated words. Pretty much every time you even consider doing something the slightest bit morally crippling, your Kan-Conscience has to chip in and ruin it. You don't even know who you are anymore.

Well, that's a little dramatic. You know who you are. You don't know, however, why you even care about Kanaya's opinion. Or anyone's opinion. You've always walked to the beat of your own drum. That's the nice way of putting "Doing really stupid shit and not listening when people tried to discourage it."

You hear a key turning in the door. Shit.

"I don't approve of this arrangement," Kanaya says as she steps inside. She gestures to you, curled up with her sheets bundled around you.

"Yeah, yeah," you mumble, crabby from nicotine withdrawal. You think you need alcohol. Nonetheless, you slide to the ground and just sort of lie there, completely in the way and not minding in the slightest.

"Not much of an improvement," she says dryly, carefully maneuvering around your prone form. This time around you manage to flip her a one-finger salute.

You roll over and clamber onto your bare mattress. "Better, Fussyfangs?"

"Much."

She goes about studying for some fashion essentials test, and you look over at her textbook every now and then. It's a lot more inviting than a math book. Lots of colors, designs, and fabric patterns dotted around the pages. Not that you're interested in that frivolity. Your aspirations are much more cut-and-dry than fashion design.

"As fun as that looks," you interrupt, propping yourself up on your elbow, "I have a proposition. John invited me to some party in the guys' dorms tonight. I'm passing the invitation along. You down?"

She pauses, mentally calculating what the sound decision is. You're almost positive she's going to decline. Instead, she replies, "Alright. Sounds like fun."

Huge shocker. You flash a grin her way and head back downstairs, to throw in another load of laundry, and pick out some party-wear.

The best part of this is the free booze, you think.

/~|~\

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you're in the throes of your first college party.

"Here you go, Fussybabe!" Vriska shouts over the thumping bass. There's DJ Dave, mixing some "ill beats" that sound suspiciously like the Power Puff Girls theme song. Terezi is perched on a bass next to him, enjoying the loud music more than she should. You hold out your hand, accepting the red plastic cup of beer from her. You don't stop and think about how drunk you are already. You may be drunk, but the way Vriska's been tipping them back, you wager that she's 85% alcohol at this point.

You can tell you aren't thinking clearly, but you don't mind. The narrow hallway everyone's packed into is crowded with students, beer, and Dave's dubstep. It's nice to watch the others under the spell of booze. Aradia is smiling more than ever, or at least, since the incident with Sollux, who isn't present. He would never allow himself near alcohol, not after how it changed him. You see Gamzee smoking what you're pretty sure is pot. He successfully coerces Tavros into taking a hit; the paralyzed boy instantly relaxes.

Vriska grabs your hand and drags you closer to the stereos. You don't know what the music is for; no one is dancing. You accidentally step on Karkat's foot on the way. Amazingly, instead of a profanity-laden rant, you only receive a blank look. He's pretty far gone too. John and Jade are singing very loudly, leaning on each other for support behind him.

All in all, everyone's happy.

Your face feels too warm. You press the side of the cup to your cheek, relieved by the coolness, and then down the drink. No way anyone could call you a lightweight, at least.

"This," Jade begins, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, "this, right here, is the best party _ever_. Whoo!"

Her "Whoo!" brings about a chorus of "Whoo!" from the party-goers. You aren't so drunk that you can't refrain from something that stupid, so you stay quiet, but John, Vriska, Terezi, and Nepeta are not so dignified. Pity. Once the screams die off, another round of beers is doled out. You discard your empty cup on an end table and replace it willingly. You should probably stop, you think, but who are you to refuse a free drink?

Your vision swims. The party is rapidly escalating into all-out insanity, especially when everyone sits down on the floor and an empty bottle of vodka is produced.

"Alright, fuckasses, listen up," Karkat growls. You don't know how many people are actually listening, though. The alcohol levels in this room must be through the roof. "We're giving into the biggest cliche ever fathomed and playing a good ol' game of Spin the Bottle. Fortunately, we're all so wasted we'll probably forget about this shit by tomorrow, if we don't keel over from alcohol poisoning. Let's get this over with."

He spins first. It lands on Jade, who's too intoxicated to do much of anything but grin as Karkat shuffles over to her and plants a sloppy, poorly aimed kiss on her lips.

Tavros spins next; the bottle wavers for a while before landing on Aradia. What a strange coupling. But, since he's high and she's drunk, the lip-lock passes quickly. Nothing very scandalous as of yet. John ends up in an awkward kiss with Nepeta; Equius is coerced into kissing Rose, which is even more strange. Vriska and Gamzee share a borderline-violent encounter. Terezi is lucky enough to spin and end up with Dave. This isn't lucky for those in attendance, because their kiss rapidly becomes very _hands-on_. John reaches over and separates them.

You feel like you should be a bit more bashful as you give the bottle a twist, but you are completely comfortable. The beer is making you feel very confident in everything you're doing. The bottle stops on Rose, who smiles at you and receives your kiss, black and green lipstick smearing as you pull away. You are surprised to find that the kiss was not at all what you would've expected. Of course, you often peg your hopes a smidgen too high.

Another round begins. You are suddenly overcome with nerves, because you are half-hoping for, half-dreading the probability of the bottle pairing you with Vriska. You have wondered what it would be like to kiss her for some time now. Though you have not acted on or plan on acting on this, a girl can dream. But here, now, under the influence, you pray that you won't make a lusting fool of yourself should the opportunity present itself.

You aren't very shocked when Vriska's turn brings the bottle spinning to a stop in front of you.

You're sitting a few people down from her, so she has to scoot closer, half-crawling to keep from falling. She is very, very drunk. You tense up when one of her hands finds the side of your neck, while the other rests innocently enough on your shoulder. Her mouth is unyielding against yours, but still soft at the same time. You feel a sigh flutter at the back of your throat. This is much better than you had originally imagined it.

Someone clears their throat; indeed, the exchange has been going on for some time. Her teeth graze your bottom lip as she pulls away and returns to her spot on the floor, giving you a sultry look as she does. You don't know how you feel about that.

A few rounds and a lot of drinks later, the party begins to dissolve. Vriska is falling-over drunk. You have to support her all the way to the girls' dorms and into your shared room, where you deposit her as gently as you can on her bed. You crawl into bed without brushing or washing or changing. You're too drunk for something like that.

/~|~\

"Someone kill me," Vriska moans into her pillow when you two wake up, heads pounding in the throes of killer hangovers.

You're thinking clearly now, and all you can dwell on is the fact that you kissed her yesterday. Shit. She's going to bring it up, probably laugh it off or laugh at _you_. You try to avoid the subject, but she seems insistent on chatting about it.

"Some party last night," she mumbles, arms thrown over her head to block out the pesky morning sunlight.

Oh no. Here it comes.

"It must have been great, or else I would remember what happened," she says, yawning around the word "would."

Ah, sweet salvation. She doesn't recall.

"I just remember that we were all going to play a game or something, but after that I'm totally spacing."

"Nothing important happened," you lie, hoping she won't sniff out the fib.

She rolls over and sighs contentedly. "Good. I need to sleep some more."

You nod and breathe a quiet prayer of thanks to the gracious gods, for they truly have smiled upon you.

**Ah, it's three A.M. and I'm writing. Help.**

**So, enjoy. I'll be digging out the Nyquil.**


	6. Pillow Talk

**So sorry for the wait lovelies, but you know what they say! High school eats everything you love and whatever.**

**This chapter is a pretty strong T for mentions of sexual content, but there's nothing graphic, so read on~**

Just about everyone in English is hung-over the next morning, except for Sollux, who had not attended the party. You glare daggers at his smug little face and try not to throw up on your notes. Your head feels like it's gone through a blender.

All in all, an average Monday.

The professor seems to know all of his students are in alcohol-induced pain, and he is picking on you especially ("Oh, Ms. Serket, why don't you share your sonnet with the class?"). The stupid man is taking a sick pleasure out of making you all suffer. Well, two can play at that game. You know he's driving a blue Saturn. All you need to do is find some desperate high school guy, throw him twenty bucks and a wink, and Professor Asshole will find his exhaust stuffed up and dicks drawn on his windows.

Kanaya knows you're planning something. "Let it go, Vriska. Just let it go."

You stick your tongue out at her, but she's too tired and pained to care. Your eyes drift from her to the rest of the slumped, groaning students. This is when you notice Eridan and Feferi are still missing. God, he must have really screwed up his date.

"Where are the rich kids?" you whisper to Kanaya, who shrugs in response.

You focus on revising your sonnet, but it's making you see double, so you zone out for the rest of class. Kanaya elbows you to pay attention just before the students are released.

"We'll be having group assignments," the professor is saying. "I want you and your partner to write a sonnet in Shakespearean style, to be handed in by next Monday. Your partners are listed here." He held up a sheet of paper, dropped it on his desk, and left.

You curse a few times in your head. You hate pairing up to work, mostly because people hate you. It's not often that you get paired with someone you can actually stand. Silently praying for Kanaya, or even Eridan, you skip to the front of the queue at the desk and find your name. You've been paired with John Egbert, which you _guess _is okay. Better than Aradia or something.

"You got Rose," you tell Kanaya, who is waiting by the door. She seems pleased by this.

John waves to you as you're leaving. Jesus, it's freezing outside; the fall is rapidly melting into winter. You rub your bare arms and wait for him to catch up to you.

"Hey, glad we got partnered," he says, grinning widely. "So, how do you want to do this partner thing?"

"I work nights," you say, and it's all you need to say. You don't have any other plans.

"I work mornings," he informs you. "I guess that leaves us with afternoons. My place or yours?"

"Yours."

He wiggles his hands into his pockets and rocks on his heels. "So, I'll see you at five?"

"Sure."

He is extremely relieved at this, and visibly slackens. "Awesome! See you later!"

John spins around and half-flees from you. He's incredibly awkward, which is actually kind of cute on him, you admit. What a dork.

/~|~\

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and you've made basically the biggest mistake ever.

You suppose you should be thankful, since Eridan's roommate Equius never came back; he, like many other party-goers, ended up sleeping in the lobby downstairs. The room is empty. Just you, Eridan, and _oh my cod you slept with him_.

He's asleep still, head turned away, one arm loosely around your waist. You keep still. No panic attacks now, no sir. You want to move your hand from its position on his bare chest, but don't want to wake him. You cannot handle that confrontation just yet. Instead, you silently rejoice having a shirt on, which you don't remember putting on, but whatever. It calms you.

You recall how it came to this colossal fuck-up. First, he'd picked you up; you'd gone to a nice aquarium and everything had been great. Then you'd stumbled on the raging party on the way back to his dorm _why were you going back to his dorm _and had a few drinks. And then...oh cod.

You're trying very hard not to cry, partly because you're angry with yourself and partly because you're scared. This is going to ruin everything, you can tell. He's going to wake up and never want to see you again. Or he'll brag to everyone about your wild night. You don't think Eridan would do that, but the fear won't leave you as you start to panic.

The worst part of it all is that you feel _good _under all your stress, satisfied. You won't say that you hadn't enjoyed yourself. Still, you've fulfilled the number one item on the "Stupid Things To Do In College" list and you are stupid, stupid, stupid.

He's sleeping pretty deeply, so you ease out of his grip and dress as quietly as you can. You feel like a jerk doing it, but you're definitely not staying for any pillow talk. You really are terrible.

You have your phone out as soon as you're down the stairs. The number you dial is one you have never expected to need.

"Vriska, help me," you choke, feeling your suppressed tears start to surface.

"Who is this?" Jeez, she doesn't even recognize your voice or phone number. You really are desperate. "...Feferi?"

"Uh huh."

She pauses, like she's moving the phone to the other ear. "Okay, what can I do for you, Princess?"

You decide to let the nickname go this time. "It's about Eridan."

"Yeah, I figured," she half-laughs. "You guys are hopeless."

You let that one go, too. "Well, I have a problem."

"Shocking. Aradia was saying how you never came back to the dorm yesterday-―"

Her voice cuts off like it's just dawned on her what she's saying, or the pieces are coming together. You sit down under an oak tree and massage your temples. She's going to laugh at you, at your whole situation, but it's not like you could have called anyone else. Definitely not Aradia or Nepeta. Vriska Serket, at least, can appreciate what it's like to have struggles.

"Jesus Christ, you two _slept _together?"

"Do you want the whole planet to hear?" you hiss back, anxiety and stress making you a bit snappy. "I need you to tell me what to do!"

She pauses, then says, "Okay. You can handle this. Just breathe deeply or some shit."

You follow her instructions; they don't really help. She continues, "First and foremost, do you know if Eridan has anything? Like, the clap or whatever?"

"No! Of course he doesn't!"

"Ha, you're right, it's not like he's sleeping around...now let's see. Were you drunk?"

You hesitate. "I think so? I mean, I'm not sure. I know we were at the party last night, and I think we drank a little, but not enough that _this _would have happened."

"So, you did this of your own free will," she concludes. You suppress a groan of frustration as she goes on. "Next order of business, then. Go swallow a morning after pill. Now."

"Where am I supposed to get that?"

"Ugh, do I have to do everything?" She sighs dramatically. "You can get them at any old pharmacy or drug store. Unless you want the Spawn of Eridan swimming in your uterus for the next few months, get to it!"

You make a face at her colorful analogies. "Thanks anyway, Vriska. You're a lifesaver."

"Hey, don't get too excited just yet. Morning after pills aren't foolproof."

You ignore this; you won't let it crush your newfound hope. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Fine, whatever."

You hang up and glance around in panic, worrying that Eridan has come looking for you for a second. The coast seems clear. You gather yourself and hurry towards the student parking lot. You have a date with CVS today.

/~|~\

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and darn it all, you can't figure Rose Lalonde out.

She isn't your usual kind of case. You're used to someone like, well, like _Vriska_, someone who is outwardly in need of your help. It's hard, but you're beginning to think Rose honestly doesn't have any kind of problem for you to fix.

Your sonnet is coming along nicely; you think Rose has added a good fraction of poetry to your already superb verbiage. She's very pleasant to be around, probably because she's a lot like you. You discuss novels for a while. In general, the experience goes over well, and when you leave her dorm you are more than a little confused.

It takes the whole walk back to your room to come to terms with the facts: Rose Lalonde doesn't need your help. How odd, for you to imagine a serious relationship with someone that isn't based on an ultimate goal to make them better. It's foreign to you.

But maybe you need this? You have to admit, most of your friendships are built on your need to improve. This should be good for you. You'll just have to try your best to be natural around her, like some kind of workshop in social skills. Frankly, this whole business is very odd and you think it's about time you went to sleep.

You pause at your door, fishing around for your key. It's buried pretty deep in your purse. The room is empty; Vriska hasn't returned from John's dorm and it's mercifully quiet. You tuck away your copy of the sonnets and climb into bed, rolling your eyes as you do so. The covers are messed up, which means your roommate has been sleeping here when you're not around. One of these days you'll get her back for it.

/~|~\

When you're saying goodbye to John in his doorway, he leans forward. You don't think he's going to kiss you until he actually does. You can tell he's not very experienced, even from the very short period of contact. His cheeks flame as soon as he pulls away.

Then he pretty much slams the door in your face.

God, he is so _awkward_.

You decide you're not going to analyze that encounter as you walk back. Your head still hurts (who are you kidding? Your head always hurts) and you're tired. John's a nice guy and all, but his advances are laughable at best. You'll deal with it all later.

Kanaya's asleep when you get back, surprise surprise. It's barely even nine. As much as you would love to crawl into your own bed, you have work. You make an effort to change quietly at first, but by the time you're about to leave you've made about as much noise as an indie rock festival. She glares at you as you depart.

It's cold as hell outside. Winter is coming whether you like it or not, which you don't. Cold weather always makes your left arm feel like _ice_. Also, for whatever reason, you never have appropriate winter clothes. You figure you should go get an actual coat or something, but that's what you figure every year, and what the hell, you've made it this far.

You also hate your job. For one thing, you don't exactly have a lot of bright memories at that place. As an added bonus, you shouldn't even be able to work there; your I.D. is as fake as your smile and if you get caught, you're pretty well and screwed. But it's better than nothing, you have to admit.

So, in summation, your life kind of sucks right now.

You kick a broken bottle aside as you walk. You eventually label your feelings at the moment as plain old _bored_. Maybe every college kid has this crisis, but you can't help but think that you haven't really accomplished anything in your nineteen years. You go to a college no one has ever heard of if they don't live within a few miles and you work at a bar, illegally at that. If you were to write an autobiography you would call it "The Life and Times of Someone that Doesn't Deserve an Autobiography."

There wouldn't be a film adaptation, either.

/~|~\

Your name is Eridan Ampora and this

cannot

be

happening.

You have a few blissful seconds of unawareness, where you sit in bed and feel incredibly comfortable, and can't help but feel like something is missing next to you.

And then, you remember.

You get dressed in a whirlwind, nearly forget your glasses, throw them on and pull the door closed in one move. A few doors open curiously as you half-run down the hallway and four flights of stairs. It's nearly dark out; you've been sleeping the whole day, missed three classes, and basically screwed yourself.

You don't even care about that.

You only care about the fact that you've _ruined _everything, after the struggle to build a halfway-stable relationship with Fef, after years of stupid crushes. God, you hate yourself sometimes. You have this unparalleled ability to mess things up, and you have (yet again) demonstrated it.

You're sweating and out of breath by the time you reach her dorm, barely able to knock a few times. Aradia answers the door and looks at you with surprise.

"Eridan?"

"Is ― Fef ― here?" you pant, hands on your knees, spine bent under your weight.

"No." Her eyebrows come together like she's remembering something. "But she came by this morning for a few minutes, and she was very upset…" Understanding dawns on her face. "Did you do something to her?"

You haven't seen Aradia Megido show this much emotion in years; that's something you guess. She gives you a look of uninhibited disgust and pokes you sharply in the chest. You stagger back until you're trapped between her and the wall.

"You listen to me, Eridan Ampora," she says, voice low. "If you hurt her, I'll make sure Tavros isn't the only one in a wheelchair around here."

She leaves you in the hallway. You sink down and sit there for a while, because hey, Fef will have to come home eventually.

You hope.


	7. Keep It In Your Pants, Eridan

**OH GOD I PROMISED IT MYSELF I WOULD'T TURN THIS INTO ONE OF "THOSE" FICS**

**But my freaking friend on Tumblr put the seed in my head (wow that's a terrible conception joke)**

**She wants to know...Do you guys actually want preggers Fef or is that minor conflict over and done? -Cowers-**

"I can't do this," you say out loud, for no reason, since no one is listening anyway.

The school's library is packed with students in the throes of pre-midterm studying, yet you could hear a pencil drop. Someone shushes you. The rustle of stiff textbook pages turning rapidly interrupts the following silence. You flip your favorite finger in the direction of the shush half-heartedly and let your eyes roam over the words in your biology book, not actually absorbing information.

You're sitting on the floor. All of the whopping six tables are taken, meaning a good twenty kids are sprawled on the scratchy hasn't-been-cleaned-since-1994 carpet. Somewhere to your left Karkat is muttering swears. Everyone ignores it.

"Karkat, shut up," you hiss, because what the hell is with this guy? He sounds like an R-rated movie.

He glowers at you. There are serious bags under his eyes, but everyone's in that boat nowadays. "Don't fucking distract me, Serket. I have a graphing calculator and I will not hesitate to chuck that shit at your face."

"Ooh, scary!" You make a face at him and prop your book up on your knees. You really want to leave; it's not like you're making any progress anyway. But Kanaya is sitting with Rose and Jade a few feet away and she'll bitch at you if you aren't working.

Antagonizing Karkat doesn't satisfy you the way it should, so you decide it's about time you ditched this nerd fest. While Kanaya is bent over her bag, searching for something or other, you scramble behind the nearest bookshelf. Now that she doesn't have a visual you'll be fine. You dart between a few more shelves and let yourself outside, into the forty degree late-fall afternoon.

You're just thinking about the fact that people are already putting up fucking Christmas decorations when someone grabs your arm and yanks you aside.

"What the hell, Eridork?" You jerk your arm back and glare at him. He has a sleepless, frazzled look about him, like he hasn't rested in days.

"I need your help again," he wheedles.

"What is it _now_?"

He scans the surrounding area for a second before answering. "Look, it's about Fef."

You hold a hand to your chest in mock surprise. "Really? I'll call the papers!"

"Shut up," he snaps. "I did somethin' really stupid and noww I need your advvice."

"I know what happened," you yawn. Old news, man.

He nearly shits a brick at this. "Howw did you..."

"She told me," you confess. Might as well let the poor sap know. "Nice going, Ampora, you stud! Another v-card in your wallet, huh? I guess I'll have to make room for her in the My First Time Sucked Because It Was With Eridan Ampora Club."

"It's not about that!" He tangles one hand in his light brown hair anxiously. "I don't care. I didn't wwant to mess this up, and I did! Noww tell me wwhat to do!"

"You two are hopeless," you comment honestly. "But I'm doing my best. And don't worry about Princess, I told her how to handle this."

"Oh cod, wwhat did you say to her?"

"You know, the usual...Morning after pill, check. Free drinks at the bar today, check."

He winces at your outstanding recommendations to a distraught girl. "Ugh, fine. Noww wwhat am I supposed to do?"

"Talk to her, dumbass! Jesus, I can't believe you're taking relationship advice from _me_."

"Come with me," he begs. "I don't wwant to go by myself."

"You have got to be kidding me," you deadpan, staring him straight in the eyes.

"I'm not! You say she'll be at the bar tonight?"

You shrug. "Well, I wouldn't pass up any free drinks."

"So, wwhile you're wworkin', I'll talk to her, and you'll be right there to bail me out."

"What's in it for me?" You cross your arms expectantly. You don't actually want anything from him, but it's kind of fun to watch him grovel.

"Wwhatevver you wwant," he shoots back, no hesitation.

This is where you realize Eridan Ampora does not think Feferi Peixes is a fling or a quick lay or a two-week girlfriend. He's prepared to give you _anything _to make things right with her. Which might mean - dare you say it? - he actually _likes _her, maybe even _loves _her. And that you can respect.

"Forget it. I'll be there."

/~|~\

"Well?" Rose asks, smiling.

Your name is Kanaya Maryam and you are utterly confunded. Rose Lalonde has just asked you to go to dinner with her, and you have done nothing but stare silently for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Come on, Maryam, answer her.

"Yes."

The word is a little awkwardly placed after such a pause, but her smile stretches nonetheless. "I'll see you at eight, then."

She leaves for her next class. You numbly pack your things and head in the opposite direction, back to your dorm. You will definitely need at least two or three hours just to figure out your clothes alone.

A nervousness flutters in your stomach. Is this a real, actual date? Or are you completely misreading these signals? Mercy, that would be awful. You shake your head a little, clear it out.

Vriska doesn't acknowledge you when you come inside; she is reading a textbook and taking notes without looking at the paper. So the midterm fever has caught up to her, too. Good. You kneel at your dresser and carefully root through your clothes, not wanting to disturb their neat, orderly placement in the drawers. You are just picking a silvery blouse from the nest of fabric when you stop. Vriska glances at you, loses interest, and goes back to studying.

When you're positive she isn't looking, you close the drawer silently and lock yourself in the bathroom. You hadn't even thought of Vriska. Why should you have? It's not like your romantic (?) exploits concern her. Even so, you fret over what she'll think about your maybe-date. Will she even care? You don't know if you want her to or not.

Enough fooling around. You dress without turning your eyes towards her side of the room and leave without a word. She leans her head out into the hall just as you're nearing the elevator. "Hey, Fussyfangs! Where're you going?"

"I am going on a date."

She opens her mouth to pry some answers out of you, but you're already gone.

/~|~\

Your name is Vriska Serket, you're passing ginger ale to Feferi, and Eridan will be here any second.

Feferi looks awful, eyes lidded, hair pulled back messily, nails bitten and uneven. This is really getting to her. You don't blame her. You wouldn't want to even _consider _the possibility of being pregnant, and with Eridan's kid on top of that? Hells no.

"What will I do if I am...you know?" She meets your eyes fearfully.

"Cross that bridge when you get to it," is all you say. You fill a few orders, mix a few drinks. This is a stupid idea. Maybe you _will _demand something from Eridan for your troubles.

Your eyes fall on the entrance again. And alas, there he is, ducking into the bar with a terrified look on his face, fake I.D. jammed in his pocket. You nod to him; he grits his teeth as he sits down cautiously next to Feferi. They only stare at each other.

"Well, I'll be over here," you say brightly. Best to let them figure themselves out alone, and jump in if need be. You sure are good at getting into trouble at this stupid bar.

You scooch farther down the bar and get back to work, one eye on the two at all times. They're not speaking. Probably not a good sign, but what do you know? You aren't the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to, you know, legitimate common sense in regards to romantic entanglements.

You're getting antsy. They're talking now, but you can't hear what they're saying at all and don't know if you want to. You bet you can guess a lot of the dialogue being exchanged over there. Stuff about the future, what they'll do if the pill doesn't work, where the relationship will go from there. Nothing you want to hear. You're just hired muscle.

You don't get any indication of what's going on until you notice Feferi's gone and a shaken Eridan is sitting alone. You move back to him.

"So? What's the deal, Fish Boy?"

He folds his arms and drops his chin onto them. "We'll see."

/~|~\

Dinner is marvelous, as it happens, and you're now sitting with Rose on a bench near the girls' dorms. Conversation is light and flowing. Your plan to be social is working, you think, because the two of you have certainly hit it off.

"My mother chose that e_xact _moment to amble down the stairs, very drunk, I should add, and interrupt my study group with these words of wisdom: 'I really really hope you all are the nice elves, because the mean ones try to steal my silver.' She proceeded to make it halfway back up the stairs before passing out and spilling vodka all over the carpet. Needless to say, I didn't have friends over after that."

Rose has many a charming story, you note, and you crack a smile at her words. Yes, seems right. The classy, upstanding, well-mannered Rose w_ould _be born to a woman with substance abuse problems.

She stands. The two of you make your way inside and up the stairs, pausing in front of your door. Her room is upstairs. There is an awkward pause.

"I had fun tonight," you say, because you aren't sure what to say. Is this the part where romantic confessions take place? Or do you just say goodnight? You've been on plenty of dates before, with girls and boys alike, but this is the first time you've ever felt inadequate.

"Likewise," she replies with another smile. "I trust we'll see more of each other?"

You don't know if this is an innuendo or not, so you agree. She leans forward and kisses you lightly on the cheek. Blushing furiously, you try to say something, but she has already made it back to the stairs and is waving. Well then.

/~|~\

Your name is Aradia Megido, and the situation is extremely delicate.

Feferi is in the bathroom still, and so you are perched on your bed, awaiting the results of the pregnancy test. It's odd. You have been very stoic since your flirt with death (you would never say that in front of Sollux, who hates himself almost as much as you love him). Your former shrink had chalked it up to a mild strain of PTSD, where you have locked up your emotions in light of the incident. But now, you are feeling a lot of things. Protectiveness, anxiety, sympathy.

There's also a certain bit of anger, too, directed at Mr. Eridan Ampora. You have entertained the thought of finding him and going through with the threat you delivered to him earlier. Feferi wouldn't like it, but she's not exactly thinking clearly. Maybe she needs this.

The bathroom door opens, and a tearful Feferi stands in the doorway, a telltale white stick in her hand.

You stand up and gently take her wrist, reading the results of the test with baited breath.

**So, interactive reading time? Review whatcha think is on that test! Poor Fef is depending on you guys.**


	8. Sister Dearest

"What is this?" Kanaya asks. You hear a rattling sound from her direction.

You're pretty preoccupied with your studying, what with the midterms being two days away. So your eyes stay glued to the array of textbooks spread across your bed as you let out a noncommittal "Hm?"

"This." The rattling grows louder, and her voice gains a steel edge. Man, she sounds pissed. Then, the rattling becomes horrifyingly familiar, and you realize a moment too late that she's found your bottle of pain meds and you're totally fucked.

She's now standing between your two beds, shaking the orange bottle with one hand. You make a grab for them; she moves out of the way. Damn it.

"Just some pills, jeez," you groan, deciding it's best to keep the lie simple. You tap your left shoulder. "For this."

She raises an eyebrow. "Then why is the bottle not labeled? Prescription drugs are always labeled."

Shit.

"So maybe they're not prescribed, per say," you hedge. This is ridiculous. "And what's it to you, anyway! They won't kill me!"

"Give it time." With a very casual flick of her wrist, she sends the pills sailing through the open window. You don't even hear them land.

"What the fuck!" You brace your hands against the sill and look down, to no avail. "Are you insane?"

"No, but clearly you are." She crosses her arms. "Do you know what those can do to you? Heart failure, difficulty breathing, hostility."

"Oh, I'm feeling hostile, alright," you spit, whirling on her. "God, you're like a cross between an infomercial and the mother of a troubled teen."

She takes a deep breath, like she wants to calm down before she continues. "I have every reason to be concerned."

"No, actually, you don't! You're just my roommate, in a couple of years we'll forget about each other and I'll probably never see you again―"

She has this really weird look on her face, so you break off and the two of you stand in loaded silence, until she turns and closes the bathroom door behind her, and you forget about your studying and leave the room entirely.

You tell yourself that's a totally normal thing that roommates do, having shout-matches and then walking out. It's easier. You don't really want to think about it, about anything, so you wrestle your way into the bushes outside the building and try to find the pills. No luck, as per usual. What a waste. You had to fork over a lot of cash for that bottle, since the local stoner-slash-dealer Gamzee is on a business scholarship for a reason. Stupid hustling asshole.

Two cigarettes later, you're calmer and less likely to punch a hole in the wall. Man, you are so fed up with Kanaya's bullshit. It's so _frustrating_. And it's alien, too, having someone that even cares a little bit about you, at least enough to worry. So maybe you're going about this wrong. In any case, she's getting on your last nerve and you don't know how much more you can take.

You can always apply for a roommate change, but the thought makes you sick to your stomach. That's bitchy even by your standards. There's pretty much nothing to do but go inside at this point. It's already dark out, you were too stupid to bring a jacket, and the early December air is absolutely freezing. You think it will snow in a few days.

Kanaya gives you a healthy serving of the silent treatment when you return, shivering violently in your t-shirt, teeth chattering. Crawling around in the dirt probably wasn't your smartest move. When the clacking of your molars becomes too loud for her to ignore, she sighs heavily and moves over to her desk. She looks pointedly from you to her now-vacant bed. A moment later, you realize: she is giving you permission.

This is a great day for mankind.

You have no idea what she does to make her sheets smell so good or why her bed is always warmer than yours, but you don't really care. You take advantage of the situation promptly. She rolls her eyes from her chair, which is fine with you, because her bed is way better than any other spot in the room. You imagine you'll stay put until she kicks you out.

It occurs to you that this might be her way of apologizing. If it is, you completely accept, even if she's going to bitch at you when she notices that you didn't take off your shoes before climbing into her bed. Oh well. You're not going anywhere any time soon. You don't even care about your studies anymore, or about eating, or showering. You're tired, as usual. Maybe it's about time you go to sleep.

Mm. Sleep.

/~|~\

"Please wake up."

You mumble some curse words in Kanaya's general direction. She shakes your shoulder lightly, but hell if you're budging. You will stay right here. This is where you'll stay, snug in her sheets, warm for once and rested and relaxed...

"Your sister is on the phone."

You go utterly still. That's the last thing you expected to hear. You sit up and hold out your hand, wordlessly demanding your cell phone. She seems confused as she gives you the device.

You lock yourself in the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bathtub, gathering your thoughts before speaking. God, you don't want to do this. You don't even know how she got your number. You can always hang up, but she'll get a hold of you eventually. She only lives a few hours away. With a deep breath, you put the phone to your ear and say very flatly, "What do you want?"

"I'm glad to hear from you, too," Aranea says dryly.

"I'm waiting."

She sighs, like this is some huge fucking inconvenience to her. Yeah, right. Her life is picture-perfect. She's eight years your senior, already graduated from college with a degree in English Literature. Last you heard, she's the youngest English professor in the last who-knows-how-many years, teaching at some big-shot university you would never hope to get into.

And no, you don't hate her for being successful. You hate her because she fucking _left you _with your bitch of a mother. When Aranea got a scholarship to an all-girls boarding school in France, you never thought she would abandon you (six years old, at the time) in your hell-hole of a home. At least when she was around, it was bearable. She was probably the smartest person you knew and way smarter than your mother, and clever enough to keep your mom from remembering how to properly abuse her children. Though you hate to admit it, you _needed _Aranea.

Not anymore.

"I'm coming to town for an English workshop at your school," she explains. "I thought we could catch up."

You laugh, and you can practically hear her wincing. She hasn't seen you since you were a kid. Maybe she's built up some image of you as a mini-her, all upright and mannered and gentle. Nope. You're just a mega-bitch. Then again, it probably runs in the family.

"What's there to catch up on?" You make sure she can hear how hard your voice is. You would hate for her to think you aren't a bitter, angry person with enough emotional baggage to fill the cargo hull of a 747.

"Vriska, please. We haven't seen each other in-"

"Thirteen years, yeah. I know."

Silence.

Then, "I never meant to hurt you."

"Who's hurt?" You are. "Not me."

She tries again. "I couldn't say no, not to a full scholarship to a school like that. It wasn't because I didn't care about you-"

"Well, to a _six-year-old_, that's exactly how it came across. Whoops."

"I'm _sorry_."

You don't know why, but your eye is stinging like you might cry or something, which you will not allow. Even if you have to take off your glasses and press your fist into your eye and swallow three times before speaking. "Yeah, well, everyone's sorry. Doesn't mean shit and you know it."

She doesn't respond. You almost hang up, but stop when she says, "I'll be there tomorrow morning."

"Fuck you-"

The line goes dead, yet you keep up an impressive stream of swears. God, you hate her. Hate hate hate. If she shows up tomorrow you might just punch her, and you don't even care if she calls the cops, you'll sit in a jail cell overnight if you have to. You're on the verge of screaming out loud when there's a light knock on the door.

"Vriska?"

Ugh. "Leave me alone."

You would tack on a "please," but that might make her think you give a shit about her feelings at this point.

"Not until you tell me what she said."

"Fuck off."

"I'm not leaving until you tell me."

"Fine!" Your voice is way above normal speaking level, but hell if you care. "You want to know? My stupid bitch of a sister is coming back and I hate her guts and if I get really, really lucky, she'll get _hit by a bus on the way here_!"

Kanaya lapses into a stunned silence, and you guess it's a good thing there are no windows in this bathroom because you would likely throw yourself out of one given the opportunity.

"I imagine you don't want to talk about it," Kanaya says. It's the greatest thing you've heard all day. "I'm going out with Rose soon. But I'm not leaving until you promise not to do anything I wouldn't approve of."

"What _do _you approve of?"

"Sleep. And yes, you can sleep in my bed. Just this once."

Tempting. "Okay, jeez."

You sit on the rim of the tub while she gets ready, watching a spider scuttle across the floor until you hear her leave. You stand in front of the mirror and pull aside the strap of your tank top. One of your fingers runs along the place where the metal shoulder meets your skin, over the bolts and then down the length of the prosthetic, bumping along the miniscule screws in your fingers.

You drag the eye-patch out of the way. It's weird, because you can see your left eye in your reflection but you can't see out of it. You don't really need the eye-patch. There's nothing but a white-ish scar running from the top of your iris to the bottom. Considering the fact that you're completely blind in that eye, the visible damage is startlingly small.

That doesn't mean you don't hate the tiny scar more than you should.

Aranea is going to ask. She's going to want to know how this happened. She's not going to get an answer from you, but she's smart. She'll figure it out. She always does.

/~|~\

Your name is Aradia Megido, and you are simply the best of friends.

You rub Feferi's shoulder and hold the phone to your ear. It's ringing. Finally, Eridan's voice says, "Hello?"

"I am calling purely to give you a message," you inform him, in your most no-nonsense tone. "Because Feferi is too distraught to speak to you. However, you should be pleased to know she is not pregnant."

He literally drops the phone. You hear it hit the floor, and then his scramble to pick it up again. "Really? Cod, thank you, and tell her I'm sorry-"

You hang up.

"Thanks," Feferi says. She is sprawled on the floor, an expression of intense relief on her face. "I don't think I could have spoken to him."

"It's fine if you're angry with him."

"But that's the thing." She chews on her lip. "I'm not furious with him. I should be, but I'm not. What's wrong with me?"

"Sh, there's nothing wrong with you." Except maybe there is. You know you're angry enough with Eridan for the both of you, and it will take quite a bit of your will not to attack him on sight.

"Maybe you're right. I mean, it's not like this is all Eridan's fault. I was there too, you know."

True. You have honestly not thought about Feferi's consensual involvement in all of this, but the fact is they both made a mistake. Not that you would say that out loud. You decide instead to keep running your fingers through her hair. It's easier to put the blame on Eridan, anyway.

/~|~\

Your name is John Egbert and you're pretty much an idiot.

You fidget madly with your pen while you wait for English to start. Vriska is going to walk in any minute now, and you're freaking out. You totally blew it with her. After a few hours working together on a project, you really got to know her better, which is good. Kissing her was good, too. Slamming the door in her face probably wasn't good.

The door opens. You suck in a breath, then let it out when you see that it's just Equius. Then it's Jade and Rose. Every time the knob turns your heart stops, and when, at last, the class is starting, you realize Vriska isn't even coming today. You're safe for another day.

At the end of the incredibly long class, you catch up to Kanaya on her way out. "Hey, you're Vriska's roommate, right? Has she said anything, er, bad about me?"

She fixes you with a sharp look. "No. Should she have reason to?"

"No!" You are really floundering here. "No, it's just that when she came over the other day, I kissed her and I think I messed everything up and that's why she's not here-"

You see something flash over her face for a split second. Hurt? Surprise? You aren't sure.

"She hasn't said anything," she says, regaining her cool. "And she went out with her sister today. Goodbye."

"Bye." As she walks away, you try to figure out what you said to ruin that conversation, but you come up blank.

Ugh. Women.

**I'M SO **

**FREAKING**

**SORRY**

**THIS UPDATE SHOULD HAVE COME SO MUCH SOONER AND I AM TERRIBLE**

**PLEASE THREATEN ME IN REVIEWS NEXT TIME THERE ARE 10+ DAYS BETWEEN CHAPTERS**

**SO**

**SORRY**


End file.
